An Wang Quotes

A friend said to me, “Hey you need to grow a pair. Grow a pair, Bro.” It’s when someone calls you weak, but they associate it with a lack of testicles. Which is weird, because testicles are the most sensitive things in the world. If you suddenly just grew a pair, you’d be a lot more vulnerable. If you want to be tough, you should lose a pair. If you want to be real tough, you should grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding.

But what he hadn’t expected was that when everyone feared him and flattered him, Lan WangJi scolded him right in his face; when everyone spurned him and loathed him, Lan WangJi stood by his side.

But…Wei WuXian looked slightly to the side. He saw Lan WangJi, who stood beside him, without any hint of hesitation, any thought of withdrawing. But, this time, he wasn’t alone anymore.

Lan XiChen, 'You believe in him?' Lan WangJi, 'I do.' He answered without any hesitation. Wei WuXian felt his chest warm up.

She lowers the volume of this Safe and Top-Trending song titled... "Love Ain’t No Thang But a Chicken Wang.” 

Wholeness, she had learned, was not the absence of pain but the ability to hold it.

The people finally realized what was going on. It seemed that whenever someone tried to argue with Wei WuXian, Lan WangJi would seal their lips.

Now, five years is nothing in a man's life except when he is very young and very old... - Wang Lung

Wei WuXian grinned and pointed at himself. "How about this one?" Lan WangJi, "Mine." "..." Lan WangJi stared at him, slowly and articulately stating, "Mine.

Hearing the dog, Wei WuXian immediately felt his hair rise. He shrunk back into Lan WangJi’s arms, half-dead with fright, 'Lan Zhan!' Lan WangJi had already embraced him without needing any reminder, replying, 'I am here!' Wei WuXian, 'Hug me!' Lan WangJi, 'I am hugging you!' Wei WuXian, again, 'Hug me tight!' Lan WangJi, also, 'I am hugging you tight!

Wei WuXian suddenly murmured, '… Lan Zhan.' He reached out and grabbed one of Lan WangJi’s sleeves. Lan WangJi had always been beside him. He immediately bent down and whispered, 'I am here.

His wang is rubbed shiny," Josh elaborates. "For luck." "Why are we talking about parts again?" Mer asks. "Can't we ever talk about anything else?" "Really?" I ask. "Shiny wang?" "Very," St. Clair says. "Now that's something I've gotta see.

If Lan WangJi had no manners, manners wouldn’t exist in this world.

Sometimes it isn't easy to be sane, smart, and responsible. Sometimes it sucks. Sucks wang. Camel wang. But that doesn't turn wrong into right or stupid into smart.

Lan WangJi, “If you do not have those intentions, then do not flirt with others. You are doing as you please, yet others will be in turmoil.

Bashful=Spanish, Miss Gardenia Doc=Psychology, Mr. Wang Happy=Chemistry 2, Mr. Durbin Dopey=English Lit., Mr. Purcell Dippy=Math, Mrs. Craig Dumbass=PE, Coach Crater

Listen, son… when I was your age, I had to face truths that seemed to break the world. That’s what happens when you come into contact with people who aren’t quite like you. You learn over time that the world isn’t broken. It’s just… got more pieces to it than you thought. They all fit together, just maybe not the way you pictured when you were young.

A decade later, a fifteen-year-old Hiroshi would become known as the youngest swordsman ever to master the Whispering Blade. What the world would never know, was that he was the second youngest.

When I first learned the truth, I thought Sebastian's life would be ruined. But seeing you, I realized everything would be fine. Because someone still loved him.

It’s much easier to tell yourself you’re a good person than it is to actually be one.

My whole life is other people deciding what's acceptable. When I put on a dress, I get to decide what's silly.

What are you?” Takeru whispered. Something bigger than myself , she realized. “I’m Matsuda Misaki,” she said with pride and honesty she never attached to those words before. “I’m your wife.” And she attacked him.

But if I learned one thing from Firebird, it’s that a person’s tragedy doesn’t define them or cancel all the good in their life.

I’ve never needed a sword to protect you—to raise you the way your father wanted. Caring for my family meant putting away the fighter, so I did.

Truth over delusion. Growth over comfort.

Wei WuXian called out, '… Lan Zhan.' Lan WangJi’s breathing wasn’t as placid as usual, feeling somewhat rushed. It was probably from carrying Wei WuXian while fending off attacks and being on the run for too long. The tone in which he replied, however, was still the single syllable, as steady as ever, 'Mnn.' After the 'mnn,' he added, 'I am here.

The question isn’t: How do I stop feeling this way? That’s stupid. I can’t. The question is: What can I do with this feeling?

Dengan wang kamu hanya boleh membeli buku tetapi tidak boleh membeli ilmu.

I used to work at the unemployment office. I hated it, because when they fired me, I had to show up to work anyway.

Lan WangJi, 'Is it amusing, trifling with empty words?' Wei WuXian, 'It’s very amusing. But, believe me, my words are as much a trifle as my moves are, which means not at all.

An equation. happiness = reality - expectations If reality > expectations, then you are happy. If reality < expectations, then you are not.

Lan WangJi picked up a teacup from the table and took a sip, his voice calm, 'Sit properly.' Wei WuXian, 'There’s no tea in the cup.' '…' Lan WangJi filled the teacup and took it to his lips again. A while later, he repeated, '… Sit properly?

A life of dangerous adventures might seem worth it now, when you are young and seemingly invincible, but one day, you will have children, and you will not want that life for them.

So many parents will try to kill everything brilliant about a girl in the name of giving her a good life, a safe life, a chance at happiness.

Stay,” she said softly and tugged him in until their bodies leaned together. “Stay and watch the sun set with me.

His entire leg was covered with the black bruise of the Curse Mark. After staring at it a while, Lan WangJi spoke in a bitter voice, "... I only left for a few hours.

The optimist sees the glass half full. The pessimist sees the glass half empty. The chemist sees the glass completely full, half in liquid state and half in gaseous, both of which are probably poisonous.

The worthwhile run is never the short one. You know we’re not running from oblivion, Thomil. We’re running toward hope.

Another theory about hair, not from my mother, but from the best friend. A woman who cuts her hair drastically is set to make some decisions.

With Wei WuXian dragging him and Wen Yuan clinging to his leg, Lan WangJi was finally shoved into a restaurant.

At Last, Lan WangJi concluded with resonating determination, "Everyday means everyday.

Some people dislike diagnoses, disagreeably calling them, boxes and labels, but I've always found comfort in preexisting conditions; I like to know that I'm not pioneering an inexplicable experience.

This... you are my story... and I was so selfish, so tied to that shadow that I missed it. And my son, I— I’m so sorry it took me this long to understand. I’m sorry—” the words caught in her throat, choking her, until pain shot through her chest, forcing her to let them out. “I never loved you the way I should have.

If you think you’re good people, and if you are, how would you know? Is it something you always knew? Or was it something you found? Some people are naturally good at it […]. Is it worth trying to be something you’re not? Just because it’s right?

Eric has said that I carry close to my chest a ball of barbed wire that I sometimes throw at other people.

Lan WangJi, 'Is it amusing, trifling with empty words?' Wei WuXian, 'It’s very amusing. But, believe me, my words are as much a trifle as my moves are, which means not at all.' '…' Lan WangJi muttered to himself, 'Why am I sitting here having such a useless conversation with you?

A Chinese proverb: Outside of sky there is sky, outside of people there are people. It is the idea of infinity and also that there will always be someone better than you.

A joke: What do you do with a sick chemist? Helium. Or curium. Or barium.

listening never made any man dumber, but it’s made a lot of people smarter.

But, even when lying down, Wei WuXian didn’t like loneliness. Soon afterward, he began to complain, “It’s too hard, it’s too hard.” Lan WangJi, “What do you want?” Wei WuXian, “I want to lie somewhere else.” Lan WangJi, “Where would you want to lie, at such a place?” Wei WuXian, “Let me borrow your lap for a while, won’t you?

Lan WangJi, 'Ridiculous!' Wei WuXian found out long ago that Lan WangJi’s temper was especially bad today. He didn’t protest any further and waved his hand, 'Okay, okay. Ridiculous it is. I’m ridiculous. I’m the most ridiculous there is.

Seated alone by shadowy bamboos, I strum my lyre and laugh aloud; None know that I am here, deep in the woods; Only the bright moon comes to shine on me.

Having destroyed countless sects, nobody would listen to his explanation, especially when Jin GuangYao would be there fanning the flames. Lan WangJi, though, was different from him. He wouldn’t even have to explain, and people would explain for him, such as how HanGuang-Jun had been deceived by the YiLing Patriarch. Wei WuXian, 'HanGuang-Jun, you don’t have to follow me!' Lan WangJi looked straight in front of him, saying nothing in reply.

Because good people can turn desperate when the horrors are upon them—especially people whose culture of plenty has left them with no systems to cope with scarcity or cataclysm. Good people will turn monstrous when it’s down to their survival or someone else’s.” “This

But unencumbered by the tight kimono or the childish cowardice that had bound her for years, she had become a new creature, more fluid and boundless than a girl but more solid than a shadow—a woman of lightning sinew and roaring blood.

Montana was naked, and so was Billy, of course. He had a tremendous wang, incidentally. You never know who'll get one.

He had a tremendous wang, incidentally. You never know who'll get one.

A fictional narrative is considered nuanced when it includes contradictions, but a narrative of trauma is ill-advised to do the same.

The Whispering Blade met Misaki’s obsidian sheath and sheared through it. Her eyes went wide, and she smiled—Gods in the Deep, she smiled —a raw, open smile, and it was the most beautiful thing in all the Duna.

I'm a prince who likes dresses.

Most strong things are rigid. If you are water, you can shift to fit any mold and freeze yourself strong. You can be strong in any shape. You can be anything.

Seeing that right after he woke up he began to speak nonsense again, Lan WangJi shook his head and turned away. Wei WuXian thought that he was going to leave. He hurried, 'Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Don’t go. I was talking nonsense, my fault, but don’t ignore me.' Lan WangJi, 'Even you are scared of others ignoring you?' Wei WuXian, 'I am, I am.

The people of the world could be divided into two groups: those who used all of their chances, and those who stood still through opportunity after opportunity, waiting for a moment that would never be perfect.

Why were we expected to speak English perfectly while praising Americans for even the clumsiest dribble of Chinese?

You might have twenty years with him. You might only have two. If you waste that time, if you miss it, then when it ends, you’re going to feel like the biggest idiot who ever lived.

In spoken Chinese, everything is gender neutral. There is no she or he. The more I think about this now, the more I like this about the language. Man or woman? Does it matter? A person.

He saw on the paper a picture of a man, white-skinned, who hung upon a crosspiece of wood. The man was without clothes except for a bit about his loins, and to all appearences he was dead, since his head drooped upon his shoulder and his eyes were closed above his bearded lips. Wang Lung looked at the pictured man in horror and with increasing interest.

Success is more a function of consistent common sense than it is of genius.

You suck. You suck diseased moose wang, Marcone.

The line between insanity and mysticism is thin; the line between reality and unreality is thin. Liminality as a spiritual concept is all about the porousness of boundaries.

What sort of a man closed his eyes to the world and called it clarity?

You have a brain and two hands, look up the answer yourself. You want to know how to get through life? Pay attention.

Lan WangJi's breaths were short and disordered. His hoarse voice whispered beside Wei WuXian's ear, "... fancy you... " Wei WuXian hugged him tight, "Yes!" Lan WangJi, "... love you, want you... " Wei WuXian raised his voice "Yes!" Lan WangJi, "Cannot leave you... do not want anyone but you... it cannot be anyone but you!

There was no bang, no light at the end of a tunnel. I didn't feel pain or even numb, and Sirius was right, it was quicker and easier than falling asleep

Lan XiChen was shocked, "Young Master Wei, could it be that even after you spent such a long time together with WangJi, you still do not know of his feelings?

Misaki tied the obsidian sword at her hip and realized how much she had ached for its weight there. A baby just wasn’t the same.

Your name is on the dress but the dress has none of you in it!

Was the headmaster serious about challenging people to single combat? You guys really still do that?” “How else would we settle our differences?” “I don’t know. Talking?

In refusing to be a stepping stone, she had made herself a boot.

Be cold, be hard, and don’t give them an inch, you understand? No matter what they say of you.

Lan WangJi’s brows sunk low as he shook his head. A few moments later, he replied in a low voice, “Brother, I want to take someone back to the Cloud Recesses.” Lan XiChen was surprised, “Take someone back to the Cloud Recesses?” Lan WangJi nodded, his expression pensive. After a pause, he continued, “Take him back… and hide him somewhere.

Does it help if we're so strong-willed, stubborn, ambitious, and selfish that we always overcome everything in our way no matter what?" asked Wang-mu. "I think those are the pertinent virtues, yes," said Peter. "Then let's do it. That's us in spades.

Thomil opened his eyes and knew for certain in his broken heart: This was how the Caldonnae truly died. In pain too big for two small souls to bear without corruption.

He said, “Lan Zhan, here, look at me.” Lan WangJi replied in a voice that still sounded a little tight, “Mmm.” Taking a deep breath, Wei WuXian said quietly, “……I really do have a terrible memory. I’ve forgotten a lot of things from before, including that night at the Nightless City. What really happened during those few days, I really don’t remember a thing.” Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s eyes widened slightly. Wei WuXian abruptly clutched Lan WangJi’s shoulders and continued, “But! But starting from now, everything you say to me, everything you do to me, I’ll remember them all, I’ll never forget a thing!” “……” Wei WuXian said, “You’re wonderful. I really like you.” “……” “Or rather, I should say, I fancy you, love you, want you, can’t be without you, whatever you want it to be.

It doesn’t matter how big, or strong, or pretty you are in magic. It doesn’t matter how much people like you. With my fingers on the keys of a spellograph, if I can just think hard enough, I’m the most powerful person in the world. That’s a feeling a woman just isn’t going to get anywhere else.

...a primary feature of the experience of staying in a psychiatric hospital is that you will not be believed about anything. A corollary to this feature: things will be believed about you that are not at all true.

Among psychiatric researchers, having a job is considered one of the major characteristics of being a high-functioning person. ... Most critically, a capitalist society values productivity in its citizens above all else, and those with severe mental illness are much less likely to be productive in ways considered valuable: by adding to the cycle of production and profit.

It was Wang Lung's marriage day.

But you can't go around changing your definition of right and wrong (or smart and stupid) just because doing the wrong thing happens to be really convenient. Sometimes it isn't easy to be sane, smart, and responsible. Sometimes it sucks. Sucks wang. Camel wang. But that doesn't turn wrong into right or stupid into smart.

I will not turn my gaze," Sciona snarled the end of the prayer for him, "though Light burn me. For Light will show the Truth of the world, and all Truth in the world is of Feryn the Father." "Behold!" She held her arms wide before the archmages. "God's work!

Hung on my bedroom wall is a quote attributed to Joan of Arc: "I am not afraid. I was born to do this." However my life unfolds, goes my thinking, is how I am meant to live it; however my life unspools itself, I was created to bear it.

So he likes being mean to you," she said. "And you like that he likes being mean to you." "And I like being mean to him, too, don't forget." "Of course not. Pleasure from meaness. There's a name for it: sadomasochism." "Thanks a lot." I said. "That's just what I need. A mental picture of Todd Harding laced up in a black leather bodysuit with a whip in one hand and his wang in the other.

Now it has been said from ancient times that all women who weep may be divided into three sorts. There are those who lift up their voices and their tears flow and this may be called crying; there are those who utter loud lamentations but whose tears do not flow and this may be called howling; there are those whose tears flow but who utter no sound and this may be called weeping. Of all those women who followed Wang Lung in his coffin, his wives and his sons’ wives and his maid servants and his slaves and his hired mourners, there was only one who wept and it was Pear Blossom.

There are no heroes, Tian Haoli. Grand Secretary Shi was both courageous and cowardly, capable and foolish. Wang Xiuchu was both an opportunistic survivor and a man of greatness of spirit. I’m mostly selfish and vain, but sometimes even I surprise myself. We’re all just ordinary men—well, I’m an ordinary demon—faced with extraordinary choices. In those moments, sometimes heroic ideals demand that we become their avatars.

Wang Lung sat smoking, thinking of the silver as it had lain upon the table. It had come out of the earth, this silver, out of the earth that he ploughed and turned and spent himself upon. He took his life from the earth; drop by drop by his sweat he wrung food from it and from the food, silver. Each time before this that he had taken the silver out to give to anyone, it had been like taking a piece of his life and giving it to someone carelessly. But not for the first time, such giving was not pain. He saw, not the silver in the alien hand of a merchant in the town; he saw the silver transmuted into something worth even more than life itself - clothes upon the body of his son.

The ‘secret’ of Shostakovich, it was suggested—by a Chinese neurologist, Dr Dajue Wang—was the presence of a metallic splinter, a mobile shell-fragment, in his brain, in the temporal horn of the left ventricle. Shostakovich was very reluctant, apparently, to have this removed: Since the fragment had been there, he said, each time he leaned his head to one side he could hear music. His head was filled with melodies—different each time—which he then made use of when composing. X-rays allegedly showed the fragment moving around when Shostakovich moved his head, pressing against his ‘musical’ temporal lobe, when he tilted, producing an infinity of melodies which his genius could use.

Look at them, the bugs. Humans have used everything in their power to extinguish them: every kind of poison, aerial sprays, introducing and cultivating their natural predators, searching for and destroying their eggs, using genetic modification to sterilize them, burning with fire, drowning with water. Every family has bug spray, every desk has a flyswatter under it… this long war has been going on for the entire history of human civilization. But the outcome is still in doubt. The bugs have not been eliminated. They still proudly live between the heavens and the earth, and their numbers have not diminished from the time before the appearance of the humans. The Trisolarans who deemed the humans bugs seemed to have forgotten one fact: The bugs have never been truly defeated. A small black cloud covered the sun and cast a moving shadow against the ground. This was not a common cloud, but a swarm of locusts that had just arrived. As the swarm landed in the fields nearby, the three men stood in the middle of a living shower, feeling the dignity of life on Earth. Ding Yi and Wang Miao poured the two bottles of wine they had with them on the ground beneath their feet, a toast for the bugs.

Then Wang Lung turned to the woman and looked at her for the first time. She had a square, honest face, a short, broad nose with large black nostrils, and her mouth was wide as a gash in her face. Her eyes were small and of a dull black in color, and were filled with some sadness that was not clearly expressed. It was a face that seemed habitually silent and unspeaking, as though it could not speak if it would. She bore patiently Wang Lung’s look, without embarrassment or response, simply waiting until he had seen her. He saw that it was true there was not beauty of any kind in her face—a brown, common, patient face. But there were no pock-marks on her dark skin, nor was her lip split. In her ears he saw his rings hanging, the gold-washed rings he had bought, and on her hands were the rings he had given her. He turned away with secret exultation. Well, he had his woman!

So there are pics of Tucker’s mighty wang on the internet?” “I haven’t been tagged on Instagram yet, so I’m hopeful they aren’t out there. But thanks for calling my dick mighty. We appreciate that.” Amusement colors his words. “We? As in you and your penis?” “Yup,” he says cheerfully. I snuggle deeper under the covers. “You have a name for your penis?” “Doesn’t everyone? Guys put a name on everything that’s important to them—cars, dicks. One of my teammates in junior hockey named his stick, which was dumb because sticks break all the time. He’d gone through twelve of them by the end of the season.” “What were the names?” “That’s the thing. He just kept adding a number to the end, like iPhone 6, iPhone 7, except in his case it was Henrietta 1, Henrietta 2, et cetera.” I snicker. “He should’ve used the hurricane naming convention.” “Darlin’, he wasn’t smart enough to come up with two names, let alone twelve.

It’s not a matter of Dad sitting down with his preadolescent son and incorporating 'Don’t be a criminal!' into the 'birds and the bees' talk. (I mean, that couldn’t hurt, probably. But it’s not the point.) It’s about teaching our boys to actively oppose sexual violence. It’s all well and good to say you’re against rape and would never rape anyone, end of story. But somewhere in that crowd of guys laughing about an unconscious girl getting 'a wang in the butthole, dude'—and the one listening to Daniel Tosh say, 'Wouldn’t it be funny if she got gang-raped right now?' and the one reading an op-ed in the Washington Post that puts 'sexual assault' in quotation marks, as though it exists only in the eye of the beholder—somewhere in all of those crowds is the guy who would rape someone. The guy who will rape someone. The guy who has raped someone. And could you blame any of those guys for thinking that rape is not a serious crime, or even something to be particularly ashamed of, when so many 'good' guys around them are laughing at the same jokes?